“I’ve always been a sucker for a beautiful lady in distress,” Tameer said. He exhaled loudly. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh, thank you, Tameer! Thank you! You are so sweet! I knew that chivalry wasn’t completely dead. Listen, I’ll give you our address so that you can pick her up…”
Chapter Six
It took only one knock to make LaChina bolt from her bed and answer the door. Staring out of the peephole, she confirmed his arrival.
“Girl, it’s him!” she shouted to Jamaica.
“Whoopee!” Jamaica called out from the bathroom. She was dripping with sarcasm.
“I would do a flip, but it’s a little crowded in here.”
“Jai,” LaChina called to her from the door.
“What?”
“Be nice.” With that, LaChina opened the front door.
Staring at Tameer, LaChina’s first thought was that she should have kept this one for herself. But, she had work to do, and he would keep Jai busy.
Tameer’s dress was casual and neat. He had the good sense to dress appropriately, she observed. His attire would allow him into a nightclub, and at the same time it would allow him to feel comfortable inside of a movie theater or restaurant. His sports coat, white button-down dress shirt, and sharply starched trousers were an excellent choice. He had taste.
“Is she here?” Tameer asked with a ready smile, and a fabricated sense of exaggerated apprehension.
“Un-huh.” LaChina nodded. “She’s finishing up in the restroom.”
A smile spread across LaChina’s face. “You know how ladies are.”
LaChina placed her hand on Tameer’s chest and slid it over the lapel of his coat, feeling the material. “Nice.”
“Thank you,” he replied. It came out with a flirtatious smile. “I’m glad you approve.”
“Well,” LaChina exhaled. “I guess I should take care of you real quick. You know, while she’s not around.”
LaChina produced an envelope of considerable girth from her back pocket. Just as she was handing the envelope to Tameer, the knob of the bathroom door squeaked and turned. LaChina hurriedly shoved the envelope into Tameer’s hand.
“Take it and hide it!” she told him.
The bulging white envelope disappeared quickly inside of Tameer’s breast pocket. When he looked up again, a smiling Jamaica was standing before him. She looked stunning.
Unconsciously, Tameer’s mouth fell slightly open as he gaped at her. Tonight Jamaica was attired in a colorful red, white-and-blue hockey jersey, with a matching white turtleneck beneath it. Her blue jeans were loose-fitting and stylish, with just the right amount of fashionable fade. She wore a pair of bulky hiking boots, and large, round, gold earrings. She was dressed the part of an around-the-way girl.
Jamaica’s flowing, silky, brown mane, was pulled tightly to the back, culminating in a lone, rope-like ponytail. Her hairstyle only served to accent her already flawless face. For makeup, Jamaica wore only a bright red lip gloss on her luscious, full lips. She needed nothing else. Speechless, Tameer stared.
“Hello?” Jamaica called to him, leaning slightly forward.
Tameer’s eyes blinked rapidly for several moments, before he shook his head and released himself from her spell.
“I’m sorry, hello.” He extended his hand quickly. “How are you tonight?”
Jamaica took his hand, smiled, and released a soft watery laugh that flowed disarmingly with her speech.
“I’m fine,” she answered. “Are you all right?”
“Uh…yeah. You know, I’m not used to this. I’m real shy.”
It was all Tameer could manage to say out loud. She was beautiful. In fact, she was more than beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing that he had ever laid eyes on!
“Well, I really don’t do this much, either,” she confided, offering another smile. “So, I guess we’ll both just have to work our way through it.”
Carefully, Jamaica examined Tameer. Her eyes cut across his figure several times, rapidly photographing him for her mind to dissect slowly. Good teeth, nice body, good hair, cute smile, and to top it all off, a sweet, innocent-looking baby face. Jamaica quickly concluded that the night may not be so bad after all. The best thing she liked about Tameer was his attitude. She was pleased that Tameer didn’t act cocky, overly confident, or brash, and that he wasn’t stuck on himself. The night showed promise indeed.
“Well, the car’s over here,” Tameer said. He waved his arm toward the parking lot in a grand sweeping gesture. Quietly, he led off, with Jamaica following close behind.
That’s it, LaChina thought to herself. It couldn’t be. There were no stupid things said, no twisting tongues, no utterly embarrassing moments! Watching them walk away quietly was too much for LaChina. She couldn’t resist an opportunity to embarrass her friend. She called out to them.
“Hey, kids!” LaChina shouted across the parking lot.
Tameer and Jamaica turned to face her.
“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do!”
The color rapidly bled from Jamaica’s cheeks, turning them pale vanilla. She rolled her eyes toward the sky, embarrassed that LaChina would shout such a thing across the parking lot. Tameer, on the other hand, found it funny. He laughed immensely.
Turning, Tameer and Jamaica continued through the parking lot of the motel. She watched with intensity as her date passed a sharp black BMW 750il. She smiled slightly and shook her head as they walked past the vehicle. It would have been too much to hope for.
Jamaica watched as Tameer also strolled past a burgundy entry-level Lexus. It was proletarian, but acceptable. Again, she nodded. Okay, not the Lexus, she thought. Then quickly, she began to pray as Tameer slowed near a massive, rusting, hulk of a Ford pickup truck, that should have long gone to that big junkyard in the sky. Her nerves calmed slightly as he continued past the old tool hauler, stopping on the other side of it.
Jamaica couldn’t see the car over the bulk of the truck. That didn’t stop her from smiling. Low roof line meant sports car. Super-low roof line meant super-duper sports car. Not bad for a blind date, she thought. Her smile faded as she passed the truck and spied Tameer’s vehicle.
Tameer’s Hyundai Elantra was primed in several different shades of gray, with the exception of the hood and the passenger-side door, which were both spray-painted in a dull, non-reflective black. Jamaica stood in horror as Tameer opened the clanging mismatched door for her.
Jamaica pointed toward Tameer’s vehicle. “What is that?”
“What do you mean?”
Remembering her manners, Jamaica smiled. “I mean, what kind of car is this?”
“Oh, it’s called a Hyundai, It’s made in Korea.”
“Or course.” She smiled politely. All of the best cars are made in Korea, everyone knows that.
Jamaica’s mind quickly ran through a quick things-to-do list. First on the list was to find a new best friend. Second, find a new assistant, and last, but certainly not least, she would call around for an assassin to kill LaChina!
Tameer had other thoughts. He quietly strolled around the rear of the car to the driver’s side, silently thanking LaChina all the way. He would have to send her some flowers or something.
Upon entering into this vehicle, Tameer glanced at Jamaica, and they exchanged a pair of nervous smiles. His smile was genuine, while hers was to keep from crying. Quickly they both focused their thoughts elsewhere. Jamaica decided to preoccupy her mind with how to prevent herself from being seen inside of this Korean thingy, while Tameer’s thoughts quickly advanced along a more religious line. He prayed silently that his car would start.
Still smiling, he casually stuck his key inside of the ignition. Please, please, please! I’ll go to church this Sunday, please just let the Gray Ghost start! It did, and they were off.
“So, how was your date?” LaChina asked, without looking up from the table.
It was Jamaica’s failure to respond that finally caused LaChina to stop
writing and turn toward her friend.
“Jai, are you all right?”
Jamaica still provided no answer. Instead, she walked silently to the bed, sat down, and allowed her head to drop and face the floor. It was only after several moments of eerie silence that she finally spoke. Her glance remained locked onto the floor.
“His car wouldn’t start after the movie,” Jamaica said in a low, hollow, monotonous tone. “He said that it happens sometimes. He raised the hood, and then this lady passed by, and he got her to give us a jumper.”
“You mean a jump,” LaChina corrected.
Jamaica quickly lifted her hand toward LaChina, silencing her.
“Whatever!” Jamaica snapped fiercely. “I had to hold two greasy, grimy, oily, jumper connectors in my hands, while my date worked on his Korean thingy. He called it a Hi-un-day, or something. The doors were black, the hood was charcoal with streaks of orange, and the rest of the dented, coughing, dying thing was gray.”
LaChina was unable to contain her laughter any longer. She chuckled heavily as she began to approach Jamaica, who again raised her hand sharply, staying her friend.
“Don’t you touch me!” Jamaica shouted. Her voice made LaChina stop cold.
Unhurried, Jamaica continued. “After we left the theater, he said that everything was okay, so I let him take me out to eat.”
LaChina nodded understandingly, but it only made matters worse. Jamaica exploded.
“He took me inside of a place where they used heat lamps to warm the food! There was a giant, plastic clown standing at the entrance…”
“McDonald’s?” LaChina interrupted.
Jamaica leaped the bed and pointed at her friend. “Yes! He took me to McDonald’s!”
Jamaica’s head fell toward the floor and her tone quickly changed. “China, I hadn’t been there since I was a kid. They had this big, giant menu on the wall, and he asked me what I wanted, and I didn’t know.”
Jamaica’s eyes became watery, and she began sniffling. “They had names like Super Mac, Big Deluxe, Half-Pounders…I was so confused.” Jamaica sat back down onto the bed and her head fell into her lap. “I ordered the happy one.”
Jamaica’s tears began to fall, and she began sobbing heavily. “It came in a box…and…and it had a toy…people were staring at me…” Jamaica reached into the pocket of her baggy blue jeans, and pulled out a pink, plastic toy, with frizzy, green, spiked hair.
LaChina Demitria Anderson used every bit of willpower that she could conjure from within, to keep from laughing. Her hands flew around her friend. “My sister! My dear, sweet, sister!”
Jamaica leaned her head against LaChina’s shoulder and continued weeping. “I ate thin, greasy, potato sticks, and some ground-up meat, with domestic cheese, and it had round bread with tiny bird seeds on top.” Jamaica sniffled. “And the little girl in the booth behind Tameer kept picking her nose and trying to get my toy.”
Jamaica began crying heavily again.
“It’s alright, Jai. It’s okay,” LaChina said, comforting her. “People eat those things all of the time. Those fried potato sticks were called French fries.”
Jamaica sniffled, and slowly sat up. “French?”
“Yes.” LaChina smiled and nodded.
“From France?” Jamaica asked weakly.
“Oui.”
“China.”
“What?”
Jamaica’s head fell back down upon her friend’s shoulder. “I hate you.”
Chapter Seven
“Hello?”
“Hi, T, this is China.”
“Yeah, I recognized the voice.” Tameer cleared his throat. “So, how are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“So, how’s Jamaica? Is she around?”
“As a matter of fact, she stepped out for a moment. Actually, she went to the mall to grab some clothes. I think she’s buying something new to wear, in case you ask her out again.” This time is was LaChina who cleared her throat. “She really enjoyed your date last night.”
Tameer’s voice perked up. “Really? Wow, she didn’t seem like she was enjoying herself. She didn’t really eat very much, either.”
“Yeah, I heard. Well, Tameer, Jai is kind of special.”
“You mean she’s retarded?”
“No, no…She’s different,” LaChina explained. “Things that normal people enjoy, she is not really used to.”
“Oh, I understand. You know, I grew up in kind of the same situation. Pops worked all the time, but we still didn’t have much.”
“Well, let me try it this way. Impress Jai by being different,” she explained. “Be original, be natural!”
“Hmmm, natural.” Tameer’s thoughts began to race through his head. Natural, he thought to himself. Impress Jamaica, by being natural.
“Yeah, but something without a lot of people,” LaChina told him. She did not want Jamaica to be recognized.
“Natural, without a lot of people.” Tameer thought silently for several moments, and then snapped his fingers sharply. “I think I got it!”
“Great, great. So what time will you be getting her out of my hair?” LaChina asked.
Together they shared a laugh.
“How about two o’clock?” he asked.
“Two o’clock? That’s kind of early.”
“Yeah, but we’ll be gone for a while”
“‘A while’?” LaChina lifted an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
It was perfect, she thought. LaChina adjusted the telephone and shifted her position on the bed. It was perfect! She would be able to make a lot of calls, while people were still around the office. Two o’clock. Everyone would just be getting back from enjoying their nice fat lunches, and everyone knew how receptive people became after filling their bellies. She would get them to agree to a nice lucrative contract, and give her everything else that she wanted. It was perfect!
“You know what, Tameer, two o’clock is perfect,” she told him.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you at two.”
“See you,” LaChina said.
“’Bye.”
“’Bye.”
“Hello?”
“Dawshanique?”
“Yeah?”
“Girl, this is Shamika! Guess who I saw at the movies last night.”
Dawshanique stretched and yawned audibly over the telephone. She took the receiver and placed it on her other ear, lay back on the bed and got comfortable. She knew that she was in for a long, yet interesting, round of gossip.
“Who?” Dawshanique asked.
Shamika’s excitement was obvious from the sound of her voice. The name burst from her lips like a firecracker on the Fourth of July.
“Tameer Harris! As a matter of fact, it was Tameer and another woman! Yo, man, and another woman!”
“Okay, I get the point!” Dawshanique exhaled forcibly and sat up in bed. “Girl, me and Tameer ain’t together no more. I could care less…”
“Uh-un, girl, you don’t understand,” Shamika interrupted. “Tameer was looking good! And he had some Barbie doll on his arm.”
“Tameer?” Dawshanique had to ask again. Looking good?
“Un-huh, girl! If he was yo man, then he wasn’t last night!”
It was a different voice. It startled Dawshanique.
“Who is this?” Dawshanique asked, now sitting all the way up in bed. She was wide awake now.
“This is Shawntae,” replied the second voice. “We’re on three-way.”
“Oh, well, like I said, Tameer don’t faze me.” Dawshanique’s hand flew through the air and she snapped her fingers. “Girl, like Beyonce, I sent that nigga to the left, to the left.”
“So you could move on to what?” Shamika asked. “Girl, Alonzo can’t do nothing for you, just like Short Texas can’t do nothing for me. All they good for is getting our hair done, getting our booty licked, and giving up some of that dope money.”
“Un-huh, girl, she right,” Shawntae ag
reed. “Tameer is getting up outta here.”
Dawshanique smacked her lips. “Tameer ain’t nothing, that’s why I cut him loose. He turned down all of them football scholarships and lost his chance at the pros.”
“Girl, you losing sight of the big picture,” Shawntae told her. “Tameer is gonna finish college next year. Hell, Alonzo a be in the feds next year.”
“Or dead,” Shamika added.
“So, what are y’all trying to say?” Dawshanique asked, although she already knew where they were headed. They had a point: Tameer was about to finish school, and he would be getting out of the Courts. It would be nice to get him back just in time to reap those benefits, but she did cut him loose in the first place. She couldn’t go back to him, it might look as though she were desperate. She had to let them suggest it. It would look better if it had been one of their ideas. They did her the favor.
“Duh! Girl, ain’t it obvious?” Shamika told her. “Don’t let some hussy steal your meal ticket! Girl, pro, or no pro, Tameer is getting up outta here.”
“Get your man back…hold on…” They could hear Shawntae shouting in the background. “Baby Quinton, if you don’t get outta that damn toilet, I’mma beat your ass! Just like your bad-ass daddy, always getting into shit! Okay, I’m back.”
“Well, I did always kind of think of Tameer as my backup,” Dawshanique told them. “I knew I could always go back to him.”
“Not the way he was looking at Ms. Black Tails last night,” Shamika said.
“Girl, I can always have Tameer back,” Dawshanique boasted. “All I got to do is snap my fingers, and he’ll come running.”
“Not if Ms. Essence got him wrapped around hers,” Shawntae declared.
“Who is this bitch y’all so worried about?” asked a frustrated Dawshanique.
“I don’t know,” Shamika told her. “I know she ain’t from the Courts, or the Eastside, for that matter.”
“And from the way Shamika described her, she ain’t from the Westside, either,” Shawntae declared. “Girl, this is a new bitch!”
The revelation made Dawshanique gasp. “New meat?”
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